


And We All In Black Like It's Gangland

by ToastMaloneIII



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Exy, Jean really does care for Ichirou in his own way, Kengo still sucks ass though, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Yakuza, and ichirou isn't a total monster, dubcon, someone peer pressure me so that I continue this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 15:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15027227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastMaloneIII/pseuds/ToastMaloneIII
Summary: One perk that comes with being the Moriyama’s property is the obscene amount of money he has access to. Jean’s never been a materialistic person, but seeing Kengo flinch every time Jean’s credit card statement arrives makes what’s left of his heart thump in satisfaction. It’s not as if they can’t afford it, and if Jean can get any sort of pleasure from being Ichirou’s living doll he’s going to damn well take it thank you





	And We All In Black Like It's Gangland

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been in my drafts for sooooo long you have no idea. I really love the concept and here's hoping that I can find the inspiration to continue it. PLEASE let me know what you think, it really does fuel me. And please do not take the chapter titles to seriously, I'm just out here having fun y'all. 
> 
> Also, try not to hate Ichirou too much. I realize that this is technically dubcon, but from my point of view, the boys are making the best of a situation that Kengo created. I hold Kengo Moriyama responsible for Jean's ownership, not Ichirou. 
> 
> Title is from Taste by Tyga.

One perk that comes with being the Moriyama’s property is the obscene amount of money he has access to. Jean’s never been a materialistic person, but seeing Kengo flinch every time Jean’s credit card statement arrives makes what’s left of his heart thump in satisfaction. It’s not as if they can’t afford it, and if Jean can get any sort of pleasure from being Ichirou’s living doll he’s going to damn well take it thank you.

 

If he’s honest with himself, Jean’s life isn’t _that_ terrible. Ichirou is usually working or out of the country, calling on him only when he’s bored and needs someone to take his frustration out on. Even during their scenes Ichirou is always diligent in his dominance. He always makes sure that Jean isn’t letting himself get pushed too far and his aftercare is top notch. Jean even gets to orgasm more often than not. Ichirou also loves to see him dressed to the nines, hence Jean’s non existent credit limit. A life of expensive clothes and endless spoiling? Yeah, not too bad.

 

Basically he’s got an uber rich boyfriend who, unlike the majority of his kind, respects him enough to treat Jean like a person and showers him with gifts for fun. The problem is, he’s still someone's _property_. He still doesn’t belong solely to himself.

 

Escape is not an option that Jean has ever considered. He’s seen enough of the Moriyama’s violence, a great strategy now that he thinks about it, to know that he’ll never make it out alive. So he spends his days shopping, working out at his insanely expensive athletic club, and biding his time until Kengo decides he’s more trouble than he’s worth.

 

Today’s shopping trip has Jean strolling down streets lined with stores that some people only dream of visiting. One in particular, a sleek black marble storefront with minimalistic displays in the windows, catches his eye and he wanders inside.

 

The shop seems to specialize in unisex designs. There are no labels on anything, just softly lit display cases with various shoes in them. Jean decides he likes it. He wanders around, pondering each shoe and guessing how much each of them costs. A girl dressed in all black sidles up to him. Her name tag reads “Melissa” and Jean nearly gets a headache the moment she starts talking.

 

“Those are a great mix of sporty and stylish wouldn’t you say? I LOVE them. They really are my absolute faves.”

 

“I’ll let you know if I need assistance.” Jean is probably unnecessarily cold, but he doesn’t have the patience for over enthusiastic salesmen and their small talk. At Bergdorf’s Jean has a personal shopper who is always on-call and simply brings merchandise to him while he waits in a private lounge. He likes to keep shopping simple, as little interaction as possible.

 

The salesgirl watches him nervously and scurries away frantically after Jean points out various shoes he wants to try on. Once all of the boxes are open around him, she retreats behind the register and busies herself with another guest. He grabs a pair of knee high boots that have caught his eye. They are made of soft, black leather and fit like they were made for him. Jean is busy admiring the way the boots cling gracefully to his calves when someone walks up behind him.

 

“Those look great on you!” The enthusiastic voice makes him cringe and he braces for the overbearing, pushy salesman that comes with it. Looking up, he meets blue eyes staring back at him in the mirror and his breath catches in his chest.

 

Jean can think of no other way to put it, the man standing behind him is absolutely stunning.  He’s shorter than Jean and nearly solid muscle but he wears it in an almost elegant way. Broad shoulders and thick arms give way to a tiny waist, thick thighs, and legs for days. Under piercing blue eyes and sinfully long eyelashes, his cheekbones are artfully sculpted and his jaw is strong. Their gazes meet and they simply stare at each other, only silence between them.

 

“I’ll take them.”

 

“Oh, really?”

 

“Yes really,” Jean sighs, feigning impatience, “and I’ll wear them out.”

 

The man’s eyes go wide when Jean throws his black card onto the counter, looking confused and oh so adorable.

 

“O-okay, I’ll get the total-”

 

“It doesn’t matter just run the card.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Jean takes the opportunity to stare openly at Jeremy, so his name tag says, while he busies himself with ringing up Jean’s shoes. Even his forearms are attractive.

 

Fuck.

 

Jeremy looks up from the computer and catches Jean’s appreciative stare. He blushes and Jean’s breath catches in his throat.

 

“Uh here’s your receipt, will that be all?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Jean crumples the paper and shoves it into his pocket, gathers his belonging, and turns to leave.

 

“Thank you!”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He makes a quick escape, gathering his wallet and disappearing into the black Maserati idling out front. Jean doesn’t even question how Ichirou found him, just fastens his seat belt and stares at the road ahead.

 

The intensity of his feelings scares him like nothing ever has. And he belongs to the fucking yakuza. Jean vows to never go back to the store again.

 

“Nice boots.” Ichirou’s gaze travels down Jean’s form appreciatively, lingering on the black leather that cuts off at his knees. Jean’s mind is still stuck on Jeremy and he has to make an effort to smile back at Ichirou.

 

“The sooner you get us home, the sooner you can fuck me in them.”

 

Ichirou runs four red lights on the drive to Jean’s apartment.

  


\----

  


Jean lies on the bed, freshly fucked and covered in sweat, staring at the ceiling and trying not to let his mind wander to blond hair and blue eyes. Normally sex with Ichirou knocks him on his ass for a while so he’s not sure why he’s thinking of Jeremy again.

 

Ichirou is sprawled out beside him, chest still heaving from exertion. He _really_ liked the boots. Jean rubs his legs together slowly, enjoying the slide of leather on his skin. They do make him feel pretty sexy. He just can’t shake the desire to show them off to Jeremy. Ichirou runs a hand along Jean’s thigh and down to his calf, squeezing the muscle encased in leather.

 

“I really like these. You should go back and see if they have any others that you might like.”

 

 _That I might like_.

 

The implied statement hangs between them silently. Ichirou is never demanding outside of their play in the bedroom but his presence demands its own kind of obedience. Jean’s pulse quickens. He makes a contemplative noise and gets up, takes the boots off and heads into the bathroom. As he starts the shower, Ichirou joins him and they silently wash each other.

 

“Are you okay?” Ichirou asks him with a softness that makes Jean ache. He really is too good to be true. He’s so kind that it makes Jean sick.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Jean turns on that hundred watt smile and peppers kisses along Ichirou’s collar. The young yakuza lord has tattoos covering both arms that stop sharply at his wrists and travel as far up as his shoulders. Jean traces the swirling patterns lightly with his fingers. Ichirou keeps a strict diet and exercise regimen that makes him look similar to a young god. He is tall and well muscled with tight abs and an ass that Jean could bounce a quarter off of. Jean rests his hands on said ass and gives each cheek a generous squeeze.  

 

“Nothing, just checking on you.” Jean beams up at him and kisses him again. After another round in the shower, they are both practically boneless. Ichirou collapses back into bed and promptly passes out, his snores filtering softly through the room while Jean retreats to the solarium.  

 

The apartment was a gift from Ichirou for his twenty-first birthday. The floorplan is open and spacious and decorated lavishly by Jean himself. Aside from his bedroom, Jean’s favorite part is the solarium. He spends most of his time in the large, glass enclosed porch that he’s filled with plants of every shape, size, and color. Jean has his morning coffee and watches the sunset from the same exact spot every day: an oversized, plush loveseat situated in the corner of the solarium.

 

That night, as the sky lights up in shades of orange and pink Jean lets his mind wander back to Jeremy. Those stormy blue eyes make him ache like he never has before. He wants to bring Jeremy here, lay him out on the cushions and take him again and again. Jean imagines Jeremy spread out beneath him, cheeks flushed and panting. Jean would open him up real slow, one finger at a time until Jeremy begged him for it. Then he’d fuck Jeremy under the setting sun, plants surrounding them as though they were in their own private forest.

 

The thought of taking a lover besides Ichirou terrifies him. He’s never had the talk with Ichirou but he’s pretty certain that when you belong to a mob boss, relationships with other people are strictly off limits. It is possible though. Jean begins to imagine quick, passionate sex in doorways and stolen moments charged with emotion. Almost like a movie.

 

It could never happen in real life and Jeremy probably doesn’t even like men. However, Jean thinks that seeing Jeremy in a professional environment couldn’t hurt. There’s nothing wrong with window shopping.  

 

Jean stares up at the dark sky and decides he might just pay Jeremy another visit.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the working title for this was "The JereJean Fic That Will Consume My Soul."


End file.
